Come Dine With Me
by Xx.WildAtHeart.xX
Summary: AU/AH The knives, (and forks), are out as six complete strangers fight for the title of the ultimate dinner party host. And with one thousand pound up for grabs, Bella must pull out all the stops in order to win, even if that means coping with the distraction of a devilishly handsome, green-eyed guy with whom she refuses to fall in love.


**Disclaimer for the entire story: I own nothing you recognise. i.e. Twilight and Channel 4's reality TV show Come Dine With Me.**

**Just a little idea I've been thinking about for a while, please let me know what you think, and most importantly ENJOY!**

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I hum softly to myself, pottering about the kitchen as a song filters through the radio. Tantalizing smells waft around the room, and I smile a little, despite the presence of an entire film crew in my house. They've made themselves at home in my small, but comfortable, quaint little cottage in the British countryside. Tripods and bulky equipment are constantly following me around, something which is fast beginning to get on my nerves.

Speaking of nerves, I'm a little on edge. Let me explain why: right now, at precisely half past six on a Monday evening, I'm stewing over an expensive looking, I-tried-a-little-too-hard dessert. A particular recipe said to be favoured by Michelin-star chefs, but easy enough for an amateur like me. _Pfft_. I mean the three first words are: _For the parfait . . ._ One surreptitious Google search later, and I can, in fact, tell you I know what that is. It's French. This is the point in the conversation where you just shrug, because this little fact explains everything.

Anyway, this is not why I'm on edge exactly. A dark shadow looms over my mango slices and I turn to shoot the camera man an incredulous eye, partly because I'm secretly taking it as a bad omen, and the fact he's practically sitting on my shoulder. You're probably a little confused. Let me amend that.

Now, three months ago, I was doing absolutely nothing. A slight anti-climax there. But, my dear friend Angela decided to change this. Big time. One email application, a handful of signatures, and a cup full of begging against all this, later, I was signed up for a reality TV program under the name of _Come Dine With Me_. A great show, don't get me wrong, just one I'd never have entered myself into of my own freewill.

The show consists of six strangers. Note the use of the word strangers. The hour-long program spans over the course of six days: Monday to Saturday. Each night, one of these six strangers hosts a dinner party. At the end of the evening, the other five score the night out of ten. Food, entertainment, etcetera... At the end of the week, whoever scored the highest, wins. Simple, you say. Think again.

_That_ is what I'm panicking about. Well, and this, too: _What if they're the most boring six people ever? What if they don't like me? What if they don't like my house? What if they're rude?_ So, you can see, that mixing the presence of several, rather studious looking cameramen, six strangers, and a scatty host, could, in fact, be a perfect recipe for disaster. Look at me and my fitting metaphors.

-:-

My fingers fumble uselessly as I try to press the back onto the earring currently residing in my ear. A task that is proving rather difficult, let me tell you. A big black blur whips past in my peripheral vision as the cameraman averts his attention to some commotion downstairs. He suddenly rushes out my bedroom, the huge camera perched rather precariously on his black-shirt donned shoulder. _Why do all cameramen wear black?_

The door bell rings, and I push my musings aside, brushing past a spider-like cameraman, trying not to list six ways to sneakily push him off the wobbling box he's now perched on. He leans in as I skip down the stairs and the little black box wobbles some more. I bite back a smile as I take a deep breath and pull back the door.

I barely have time to blink before a small figure bounces through the door. "Hello!" she beams, her bright blue eyes practically glowing with excitement. The cameraman happily soaks it all in behind me as I swallow. "My name's Alice," she says. "It's so lovely to meet you," she gushes, but strangely I find her seemingly exuberant nature to be rather lifting, instead of overwhelming like you'd think.

I smile genuinely back at her, "I'm Bella." She grins, shaking my hand. "And it's lovely to meet you, too."

Formal introductions out the way, I make my way through to the living room, watching her carefully as she takes it all in, following behind me. Her eyes widen a fraction as she steps in, her mouth forming a slight 'o'. "I _love_ this room," she states in awe.

I smile shyly, "Thanks, I'm an interior designer."

She shakes her head, almost as if she can't take it all in. I'm _slightly_ confused; I've only said several words. She places her hand to her chest, "I'm a fashion designer."

A smile curls at my lips as I take in her fashionable, yet slightly quirky clothes. "Oh, great; it looks like we have something in common, then."

She grins and nods, turning her head slowly to look around the room. She offers a thanks as I pass her a drink, smiling happily. I sip tentatively at mine, basking in the comfortable silence I'm almost sure won't last.

She twirls the tip of the finger around the base of the glass, frowning in thought. "So what made you sign up for this then?" she asks when the cameras have finally disappeared.

I laugh a little, "It wasn't exactly my intentions."

She raises an eyebrow. "How so?" she says before sipping at her drink.

"A random idea, a stubborn friend, and an email address," I sigh.

She laughs. "Well, I'm not sure you'll like me so much;" she says, "I have plenty of random ideas, I'm very stubborn, and I have lots of email addresses."

"I'm sure you're not too bad," I hedge.

She shoots me a look and I hold my hands up in defence, laughing a little. She smiles again, turning her attention to the doorway.

"D'you think they might be really boring?" I ask Alice, keen to get her opinion on one of my biggest worries.

She shakes her head. An optimist, apparently. "No," she says. "Slightly dull, but not boring."

I'm rather confused by her words, frowning into my glass as I try to work out her complex-maths-equation like answer.

Like any TV star, I'm saved by the bell. Alice grins at me as if to say 'good luck'. I take a deep breath, smile quickly back, before hurrying towards the door. The studious cameraman has pressed himself up against the wall, one leg perched on the stairs, really embracing the whole fly on the wall idea. It's a rather amusing sight, to say the least.

I quickly draw back the door to find a beaming man. He grins at me, "Hi, I'm Emmett."

Slightly taken back, I smile, "Bella." I gesture towards the living room, "Come in."

Still beaming, he nods and makes his way through to the living room. Alice is quick to introduce herself and pounce on him with a series of questions I just know the cameramen are soaking up like sponges.

I pass him a drink, taking their appearances in for the first time. Alice is what you could call Pixie-like. With short black hair perfectly arranged on her head, and glowing baby blue eyes, she looks like a character straight out of a Disney fairy tale.

Emmett would be the right hand man of the hero. Built with large muscles and dimples, he screams goofy. He'd be the one who cracks all the jokes, too. If he was in Shrek, he'd be the donkey.

The bell rings for the third time tonight and I rush once again to open it. This time, I find a handsome blue-eyed, blond haired, six-foot man, who would definitely be the cat in Shrek.

He smiles at me, "Good to meet you, I'm Jasper." He's American, complete with the perfect southern drawl.

I grin at him. "You too, I'm Bella," I say. "Please come in."

He follows me through to the living room and I introduce him to the others. I'm part way through trying to work out what Disney character Alice would be when the door bell sounds out.

I pull back the door to find a woman smiling back at me. Blond hair frames her face, and delicate light blue eyes beam up at me. "Lovely to meet you," I greet. "I'm Bella."

"Rosalie," she says. "And you too."

I close the door behind me, gesturing towards the living room. The cameraman shoots me an appreciative look after glancing at Rosalie. I roll my eyes and follow behind her. _Men_.

Passing her a drink, I return to working out who Alice would be. Rosalie was immediately Rapunzel, but Alice... I don't know.

We're all stood in a circle, getting to know each other. I must say, the four people standing before me aren't exactly ugly, far from it, I tell you. I glance at Donkey and Rapunzel, before stifling a giggle at the image. They're both immersed in conversation, as well as Puss in Boots and Tinker Bell. I bite my lip to refrain from laughing at the mental image I've formed.

The door bell rings for the final time and I walk slowly to the door, suddenly feeling nervous. Drawing back the door, my breath hitches in my throat.

Definitely Prince Charming.

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**What cha think? Would you like me to continue this little idea or not?**

**Reviews very much appreciated! ;)**

**~wildatheart~**


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